


Saturn Above

by Rubynye



Category: The Martian (2015), The Martian - All Media Types, The Martian - Andy Weir
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ares3some, Birthday Sex, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Diary/Journal, Double Penetration in Two Holes, F/M, Frottage, Gangbang, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multi, One of My Favorites, Oral Sex, Table Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, Touch-Starved, Touching, Vaginal Sex, let's list sex acts!, space orgy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 17:57:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6019645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Okay, starting over with what actually happened, which was the most amazing birthday present I've ever gotten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saturn Above

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dira Sudis (dsudis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsudis/gifts).



> Someone asked for a "Zero-G gang bang with a gooey touch-starved Mark Watney at the center." I left off the zero-G part, but the rest is here!

Log Entry, Mission Day 829

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. I can barely keep my eyes open but I need to record this before I crash. And then get Johanssen to triple-lock it down for me after we all drag ourselves out of our bunks tomorrow. I still can't believe --

Okay, starting over with what actually happened, which was the most amazing, _intense_ birthday present I've ever gotten. Better than the ten speed bike, or space camp, or my first blow job. But then it included a blow job. Maybe two depending on how you count.

They got me to come three times in an hour. I can't believe I can still walk. 

So tonight's the night before my birthday. I'd been thinking I might want to spend it with Beth and Chris, but there's this way they sit sometimes. Some nights one or both of them look up at me and smile and it's as good as an engraved invitation. Other nights they sit so close together, even though they're looking at different things, that I just... feel like I shouldn't push in between them.

So I looked them over, sighed, and took myself off to bed, ready for a shower and a stroke and a long night’s sleep (see what I did there). I got through the first and was just settling down to the second when my door rattled under Martinez’s powerful blows. “Urgent meeting,” he called, “won’t take long.” Filthy, devious liar.

I got my ass back out of bed and dressed again, and obediently headed out. He started in with, “Marissa says hi,” and would you believe that sneaky asshole got us onto the subject of Christmas? Looked all sad, too, telling me about how his boy asked if Santa could bring Daddy home in time. Fucking heartstring tugging and I fell for it, all the way up to, “You know where Santa Claus came from in the first place?

“Um, St. Nicholas?” was my best guess.

“Nah, before that, the pagan origins. “ I didn’t really think he’d be into the “before” thing, what with the Catholicism, but he lit right up. “Papa Odin, can you believe it? Imagine the rites back in the day. The drinking and the feasting. The bonfires and dancing. And of course the orgies.”

My mouth fell open, because _Martinez_ had just mentioned _orgies_. He turned and grinned at me just as we hit the kitchen, where he took ruthless advantage of my shock to grab my arm, swing me through the doorway, shut the door with my ass, and shove his tongue down my throat.

Which I didn’t mind. Really didn’t mind. There may have been some moaning involved, maybe my knees went a little weak. It’s just – I’d imagined it, okay? Before Mars, even. Once I realized I was gonna spend a year of my life in a tin can with five intelligent, accomplished, devastatingly hot people, I thought about it until both wrists hurt. What they’d be like on their own, in twos and threes, I even tried to figure it out for all five at once. I’ve thought about Martinez pushing me up against a wall and how his mouth'd feel on mine, how his mustache might tickle. But I hadn’t imagined how strong he’d be, pretty much holding me up against the door. I hadn’t anticipated the way he’d kiss me until my brain melted. It was probably dripping out my ears by the time he let me up, and I did guess his eyes would sparkle just like that. 

Then he moved and let me see into the room so everyone could cheer, "Happy Birthday!".

I have a snapshot stuck in my sleepy brain, but I can’t describe everything at once. I have to get things in order, pick and choose which details to mention first. Like, Lewis with her hair down around her bare, BARE shoulders and the long scar on her right thigh and the bright warm red of her pubes and the HOLY SHIT high-pitched noise that started going off in my brain. Or Vogel behind her, arms folded across his kind of frightening, sexily frighteningly broad chest. Or the table covered with a soft gray blanket like a weird tablecloth, or Beth’s little toes and Chris’s hand on her waist and I hadn’t seen his dick in such good lighting in a long time. And did I mention everyone was naked? I glanced sideways for confirmation and Rick was taking down his pants, and WHOA.

The memory goes fuzzy around then, mostly because of how much blood rushed south how fast. My brain emptied out except for white noise and shrieking horniness. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Lewis stepped forward, not quite smiling but looking kind of warm and encouraging, grabbed my wrist and led me over to the table.

I think I might have said something about _the kitchen table??!_ Whatever came out of my mouth, she replied, “Tomorrow morning it goes back to being the table and we won’t mention this again. Right now, get your ass up there and let us give you your happy-birthday-and-congratulations-on-not-dying present.” So I did.

Vogel stepped up behind me. I looked up and he _winked_. “Relax, little dumpling,” he said, and I nearly got indignant because _dumpling_? But he grabbed my shirt and pulled it off me, someone peeled my pants off my hips, and _my_ dick hadn’t seen such good lighting since Dr. Beck paused in going over my radiation burns to note that I could use a course of ‘sensory reintegration’. 

Tonight was a hell of a session. Vogel pushed my shoulders down onto the cushioned table and just kind of pressed me into the blankets, while someone tucked an extra pad under my hips -- I looked down and it was Martinez, Rick Martinez grinning at me from between my thighs with his hands on my ass. That image I definitely hadn't ever come up with. I probably would've passed out from how fast it would've made me hard. 

"Well you went quiet," Rick said, standing up, his hands still full of my _ass_ , and even I stop and savor the moment sometimes, you know? "All it takes to shut you up is incipient sex?" 

Everyone cracked up at that, even Lewis flashed a smile, and I was just looking over at her when Beth said, "He usually stays pretty mouthy." So I had to try to glare at her instead. I probably just made stunned-fish faces, to judge by the way she giggled and Beck smirked as they watched me fail at the witty repartee.

Then two cool, wet fingertips pressed firmly against my hole, and I was too busy feeling and gasping and eagerly bearing down to bother with anything else. I never even knew Martinez knew what to do with someone's ass, but he slid those fingers inside me, in, in, in. My estimation of his and Marissa's wedded life took a wildly expansive turn right up until he rubbed firm fingertips across my prostate and my brain explosively emptied. He made this little _huh-is-that-it_ noise and rubbed again, and I helpfully shouted something like "yes" or "more" or "holy fucking Christ don't stop." Vogel's strong hands flexed on my shoulders, pushing me down into Martinez's firm steady fingers, how did they even know I needed it like that? Need to ask Beck if he diagnosed it somehow and told everyone else, "The patient requires restraint, lube, and a good thorough dicking." He would.

Meanwhile, Herr Vogel with those big strong hands. I'd thought about it a couple times, while planning out how to tease him about his obvious supervillainy, how he might implement his kinky evil side. I didn't expect him to be so hands-on about it. I reached up, I don't even know what for, but he grabbed my wrists, puffing out an interested kind of noise. I could smell him then, suddenly like a shout, rich heavy musk. I knew if I could look up I'd see a massive German scientist's cock hovering above my eager eyes.

But you try keeping your eyes open when a clever-fingered pilot is concentrating on driving you crazy by way of every single nerve ending up your butt. Metaphorical you, anyway. No one's reading this log except me and maybe Johanssen but she was there, and maybe some horny grad student a hundred years after I'm dead. If I don't delete it.

I don't think I'll delete it. I want to remember every second of tonight. Including when Martinez twisted his fingers out, breathing heavy, and I had to look up and see him looking down at me, his chest heaving. Trying to beam _FUCK ME_ into his brain didn't quite work so I was getting myself together to use my words when Beck put in, "Little more lube, I think."

That got me going. "No fucking way," I started, "come fuck me right now, Martinez," who started laughing, wrapping big hands around my thighs and laughing, "or I swear to God I'll rip your head off."

The peanut gallery erupted again. "Ooo, baby, talk dirty to me," Rick got out between giggles, but he tilted my hips and lined himself up. He could've smacked my ass and called me Sally by then as long as he got around to it. "If you decapitate me who'll be the pilot?"

"Still have your hands," I pointed out, trying to keep it together as he nudged me, perfect aim, not that I was about to tell him that. "Don't need a brain just --" as he pushed into me, one long slide, the sweetest edge of a burn, "just to pilot, just, fuck," and I pretty much lost it right around there. Rick leaned over me, grinning at me, _fucking_ me, while Vogel held me in place for it and Lewis watched from the edge of my vision like we were perfectly performing some tricky maneuver. Beck whispered something in Johanssen's ear that made her cheeks glow pink as she bit her lip and stared hot-eyed at me. My crew was fucking me, Martinez just took first turn. There really isn't any way to be cool about something like that.

Fuck cool, anyway. I gave up and let my mouth run with all the "yes" and "there" and "fuck" and "come on" I could come up with. For once Rick shut up and cooperated, putting his back into it like he was trying to dent the table and my ass was in the way. It was _amazing_ and I don't even know what kind of noise I was making when Vogel muttered something guttural and Teutonic. 

I arched my neck and yep, generously sized German sausage right overhead, with a shiny clear drop shining at the tip, and his little sly smile about a meter further up. "You are loud," he said, took a hand off my wrist, and used it to angle his dick into my mouth. Beck called over something about 'airway', presumably mine, and Vogel slid his hand under my nape, propping my head up as I did my best sword-swallow.

It's a good thing Beck and Johanssen have gotten me back into practice taking it at both ends. They sure liked the show: he whooped and she cursed something awesomely unladylike, and I might have waved if I could've remembered my hands could move. I was kind of distracted, in the best way, gulping hard around Vogel's salty hot dick in my mouth as Martinez went through his whole trilingual stock of swearing and bounced me bone-rattling hard as he came. What a performance.

I was feeling kind of greedy, though, all melty hot and tingling, and I moaned sadly as he pulled out, as my empty ass informed my aching dick that was it, no more sensation at that end -- just in time for Rick to shock the fuck out of me, quite literally, shoving two strong fingers back inside me, hitting every newly tenderized spot with perfect rough pressure, as his hot wet mouth closed over my dick.

I could feel Rick still panting as he sucked hard around me, and I will never admit it to anyone but you, dear diary, but Vogel's dick down my throat saved everyone from hearing an honest to God man-shriek. I have no idea what I actually sounded like, because I was way too busy coming like I had an electric arc going through me. 

Rick gasped out something in breathless singing Spanish, patted my hip as he backed off, and slumped into a chair. Alex swore a very clear and booming "Verdammt süsser Mehlkloss" and pulled out (and out and out some more) of my mouth, and now I remembered I had hands. I grabbed his hips, wanting him back, wanting to keep on feeling, and got my mouth on his tightening balls as he stroked his dick over me, muttered some dirty words he definitely hasn't taught us yet, and came all over my chest. 

(I _really_ didn't mind to a... slightly disturbing degree, but, what the fuck ever, an orgy is no time to be prissy.)

"Thank you," he said, so low I kind of felt it more than heard it, all over my skin. He pulled out of my grip, kissed my forehead right between my eyes, and backed off too.

"Back atcha," I managed to mumble, let my arms drop, and just kind of lay there for a minute sucking down air, my heels propped up on the table and my arms dangling over my head and _no one touching me_ as I floated somewhere between elated and starving, overwhelmed with what I'd gotten, wanting so much more. 

But, you know, patience is a virtue, so I kept my yap shut. After a moment or five Lewis said, "Beck and Johanssen, you're up," and this time Beth cheered. It's nice to be wanted, not least by a hot chick.

Not to mention a studly doctor. They're both just so pretty. Sometimes I look at them and that's all I can see. That's what I saw tonight as they came to me, smiling and ready. Chris narrowed his eyes a moment, giving me a medical once-over in the middle of a distinctly non regulation team activity, and I couldn't help it, I cracked up laughing. He grinned, his cheeks going a little pink as he stationed himself between my legs and ran his hands up my calves.

"Mmm, happy noises," Beth said, catching up my hands. I looked back to see her climbing on the table, tits a-jiggle, what a view. "But Alex left you all sticky." She settled her gorgeous thighs around my happy head, reaching for a fistful of blanket. 

I was gonna say I could clean myself up, but Martinez butted in with, "Watch out for Vogel's baby batter there, he's got fifty kids," which got a tired snicker out of the man himself. 

"Oh dear," Beth said, sweetly unconcerned, as she scrubbed off my chest. "I'd better ask my doctor." Who just snorted and kept rubbing my thighs, gentle circles with just enough pressure to push the warmth all the way to the bone. I gave in and let them fondle me as Beth switched to her hands, rubbing up and down my chest, rolling my nipples under her palms. That put my face between her thighs, and I could smell her. She always smells so fucking good. I got my hands on her sleek soft hips, pushing my mouth up towards her, and she squeaked and sat down, sadly behind my head rather than on my face.

"Don't jump the gun," Chris rumbled -- he can go surprisingly deep -- and Beth nodded above me, cupping my face in her little hands. "We've got plans for you."

"They include fucking me?" I asked as hopefully as I could, tipping my thighs a little apart, trying to look winsome and fuckable. "I wouldn't mind that." Martinez guffawed over Lewis's restrained little snicker. "Don't wait for me to get hard again, the rest of me's ready right now." 

Chris let go of my legs and stepped back, the tease. I started leaning up to see where he'd gone and Beth flattened her hands over my collarbones. "Stay still."

"It's not like I'll fall off," I said, pretty logically I thought, considering I was still tingling all over and I could taste her savory sweetness in the back of my throat.

No one appreciates my reasoning. Beth just pushed down harder, giggling. I could feel the vibrations through her skin into mine. "Maybe Alex has the right idea about shutting you up," made me look look up hopefully, trying for puppy dog eyes.

Beth smiled down at me, her thick soft hair dangling touchably around her face, but Chris said, "that would be rewarding misbehavior," which made Lewis laugh outright. Or maybe she cracked up when I pouted. He thunked something round and smooth down on the table by my left hip, and this time Beth let me look. 

It was a big-ass container of more lube than I knew we had onboard. I was tempted to ask if he was gonna calve me or something, but he set his hand softly on my belly and asked, "Ready?" His eyes were big and soft and he looked so kissable, so I didn't even bitch about how ready I'd just been saying I was. I just nodded, and watched Chris smile.

Beth inhaled above me, soft and impressed, and I knew she was watching him too. He winked, and leaned in and kissed just above my bellybutton, and it's a good thing I was too turned on to be embarrassed about the distinctly swooning noise I made. He kissed my dick too, where it lay still taking a breather low on my belly, and I twitched deep inside. Beth hummed softly and bent over me, and I pushed up on my elbows as she kissed me, as Chris traced my pucker with one wet fingertip.

I have to admit, I'd been wondering what they planned to do with me. It's not -- I'm not _used_ to sleeping with them -- some things are a little too amazing to get used to -- but I'm comfortable with it. I think they're both comfortable with me. It's not every night, anyway. Sometimes someone has to stay up late doing repairs, monitoring a system, running a program, stuff like that. Sometimes someone is too tired for sex and a lot of the time that someone's me. Still it's not all that rare that we all climb into a bunk and tangle up together in some outlandish position, Chris comes and I come and Beth comes three times because girls are awesome, and we go to sleep. But they usually don't start on me when I'm already melty around the edges from getting fucked, so I was curious what their plan was. 

It turned out to be sheer evil awesome torture. Beth kissed me gently, too gently, pulling her mouth away whenever I pushed up. She leaned over me, running those clever little hands across my skin, leaving hot trails behind her narrow fingers, as she dangled her breasts just out of reach like a fucking Greek myth. And meanwhile Chris was driving me crazy --

\--no, that's not sufficient. And _that_ was a yawn. I think I need to get metaphorical for a moment, try to explain before I crash. You know how one musician can pick up a guitar and thrash the hell outta it, rocking it out like there's no tomorrow? While another can sit down at a piano, flex his fingers, and play a thousand streaming notes in ten seconds? And both are awesome? Yeah, that's Martinez's fingering vs Beck's. I already knew he's good at it, but tonight he must've done warmup exercises first, brushed up on an anatomy chart, something. At first I hummed and flopped out across the table. Then I moaned and squirmed, trying to get my mouth on Beth's skin, trying to fuck myself on Chris's fingers, while Martinez kept up a sportscaster play by play and Vogel and the Commander made little amused noises.

Then there was this moment when Chris precisely turned three fingers, stroking his thumb across my balls, and -- I swear I felt my dick heave upright between one heartbeat and the next, and Chris's amazing fingers were suddenly both too much and not enough. "Fuck me," I actually wailed, voice shaking and _shit_ , I was begging. Mark Watney doesn't beg but these two can make me, always.

Chris just did his best mad doctor laugh and did it again, and again. Beth shoved down on my shoulders and I clutched her thighs and couldn't shut up. "C'mon, please, please, fuck me, fuck me, I can't, I'm gonna _die_ here," etc etc etc. _Now_ I'm blushing. Then I just wanted it as bad as I ever have in my life, as bad as the first time I really thought I might live and my whole body wanted to celebrate, as bad as that sol I couldn't get the Beautiful Queen Of Mars outta my head, as bad as anything. I shivered just now, thinking about it..

"Impressive," Lewis said, "I think you two have a future in interrogations."

Beth laughed, had mercy, and scooted forward, parting her thighs over my face. "Look at that," she said, leaning over me, and I pretty much smothered myself with her gorgeous pussy. She did this little breath-laugh-moan thing around my dick as she closed her soft lips tight on it. I heard Chris say something but Beth's thighs tightened around my head and all I could smell and taste was our prettiest astronaut sitting on my face, all I could feel was soft skin and sleek muscle clamped around my ears as Beck mercilessly played arpeggios on my prostate. I'm sure that was about the sloppiest job I've done of eating a girl out since my sophomore year but hey, Beth liked it, and that's what matters.

And I really fucking liked it.

And then Chris didn't even pull his fingers out, just pushed in his dick in one surprisingly quick move (he likes it slow and gentle and romantic -- take notes, Space Doctor Groupies) and _blast off_ , I was high as a fucking kite right there. Martinez cheered and I think it was Vogel who applauded but what I won't ever forget is how Johanssen quivered on my face as I shouted helplessly underneath her.

But then my dick was _cold_ though my ass was hot and full, and I could hear again because Beth knelt up off my face, but I couldn't even open my eyes. But I could hear Beth, gasping out the question, "Hey Watney, want us to fuck you together?"

God, did I ever. We'd done that a few times, and it was intense. The first time I may have cried a little, maybe, a lot. Um. I don't even remember how I said _PLEASE FUCKING GODDAMN YES_ because thinking was not really a high priority, but she swung around and settled on me with this hot little groan to match her hot slippery squeeze. Chris kind of hissed, tightening his grip on my knees, and they started to move in tandem. I got up on my elbows and Beth leaned down to kiss me and this time she didn't keep her breasts out of reach, this time she moaned into my mouth and wiggled like the world's most gorgeous sine wave. All I could do was hang on and enjoy the ride.

I tried to last, I swear I did, you'd think it would've been easier after coming once already, but when Beth came -- I could go get one more degree in English Comp and I still couldn't properly describe all her dynamics, all the different ways I can feel her move when I'm inside her as she comes. Especially with Chris inside me. I came pretty hard, thumping like a heartbeat all over, and the first thing I felt after that was Beth's forehead wedged against my shoulder, her breath puffing over my skin as Chris shook over us, his hips twitching.

I threw an arm across Beth's back and gave up on movement, happy and satisfied down to my melted bones. She pressed ten little finger-dents into my shoulders as she tucked herself to my side and started kissing me, soft warm smooches as Chris pulled out, settled my heels on the table, started petting my legs again. More hands joined theirs, and I'm usually not this lazy, really, but this time I lay there and let my crew pet me all over. I might have purred. 

Eventually Beth peeled away and got off the table, but settled her hands on my ribs. Chris handed off my legs to Alex and came around to take over kissing me, meshing his fingers between mine, while six friendly hands kept touching me like they were making up for all that time alone. Martinez said something about "ooey gooey Watney," and all I came up with was some blorpy noises. I really was pretty damn melted.

Then the air changed, everyone shifted a little, and a seventh hand wrapped around my dick, long slicked-up fingers and a firm joystick grip. I'd been sure I was done -- I mean, twice in one night is a helluva party -- but I could tell just by that grip I was giving it up one more time. I cracked open my eyes and tugged a hand free to prop myself up, just in time to watch Commander Lewis swing a long pale thigh over mine and climb up onto the table. And just --

She's Commander Lewis. It took me the longest to imagine her in bed, because it always seemed... wrong. Presumptuous. (Yeah, even I have limits.) When I finally did I imagined it like this, on my knees or my back for her, my throat bared. But I couldn't've imagined the long shiny scar on her thigh, or the particular translucence of her redhead skin, or the slickness all down her inner thighs clamped around mine, the oval of wet heat between them. As she settled her ass on my thigh and planted her hand beside my ribs she looked straight at me until I could feel it. She's our commander, badass and handsome, and tonight she took off her clothes and climbed onto me and ordered me to come for her. Of course I did.

I clearly remember gasping, "Holy shit, Commander." I remember the way her smile opened out into a bright grin, as she gave my dick a little squeeze and it obediently pulsed in her grip, filling up again. Everyone backed off with a final grope or pet, Beck squeezing my hand, Martinez pinching my ear because that's the kind of jerk he is. 

All I could look at was Lewis, her hair tumbling over her shoulder, her breasts shifting as she breathed. "Hey, Mark," she said, husky and low, and I defy anyone with a postpubertal dick to not get hard with a voice like that in their ear. "Having a good time?"

"Peachy keen, Commander," I babbled, "how about you?" Judging by her wet thighs and the steady rocking of her hips, she'd been enjoying watching the crew have their wicked ways with me. 

"Pleased with my crew's cohesion," Lewis said, which got some snickers from the peanut gallery. She kept stroking me, base to head, and kept talking. Dammit, if I weren't so worn out... I wish could write down every word she said, her voice getting breathier, rough like raw silk, as she leaned in close enough for her nipples to prod tingles into my chest, grinned every time I gasped, and kept talking. She told me about reading my logs with the crew, about personally deciding to come back for me, "when you blew yourself up and I realized just what a firm hand you need," with this wrist-twist that made my eyes cross as I moaned a laugh. She told me something about the Rich Purnell Maneuver she's never mentioned before (and I owe that fucking kid all he can drink and then some), about the exhilaration of swinging around the Earth, as my belly swooped with vicarious excitement and present gratitude and a slow-but-sure build to orgasm.

I won't forget the droplets glittering on her forehead and the glowing red in her cheeks as she let her hair rest on my cheek like a third hand. I won't forget hearing, "You worked like hell to make it back, so we had to come meet you halfway. Because you're ours, and we're yours. Now, arms up, Watney. Hold onto me." 

So I did, and, God. The way Lewis felt, her long back under my hands and her solidity surging in my arms as she put both hands on me, grinding down on my thigh until I pretty much whimpered "Commander, Commander," and came for her, just as ordered. She gripped my hips as she rode me so hard all I could think of was how it would be to have her fuck me like that, and there was no fucking way I was getting hard again or I would have as she shuddered over me, her mouth so close to mine I could feel her panting breaths blow across my lips.

It was ... intense.

Duh.

Commander Lewis kept going another minute or so, working in a littler one, I think, before she skidded to a halt, still holding onto me as I held onto her. I flopped down onto my back as gracefully as a fucked-out exhausted astronaut can manage, and after a few moments more she took a deep breath and blew it out, still and steady again, and reached for my wrists.

She kissed me between my eyes, though, before she sat up and peeled my arms off, before she climbed off me and the table. Eventually I told the ceiling, "wow."

That seemed to signal the end of festivities. I could hear active noises and cloth swishing but all I managed to do was let my hands and legs dangle. Oh, also I gave serious thought to just going to sleep right there. Everyone could just eat breakfast off me in the morning. 

So of course Beck arrived with an, "Upsy daisy," as he wrapped his arm around mine and pushed on my shoulder blade, someone else mirroring his motion on my other side as they sat me up. I looked over just as Commander Lewis let go of me again, and she looked so unruffled in her black sports top and pants you would never have guessed she'd just presided over an orgy. I might have said so but Beck told me to "sit there and drip dry for a moment while we find your pants." Suddenly I _felt_ the whole sticky evening all over me, and blushed like every drop of blood inside me slammed in unison into my skin. 

In sheer self-defense I said, "I think Martinez ate them."

"There's not enough hot sauce in the solar system," was a nice bracing insulting answer. Thanks Rick!

Before we could get a good volley going, Lewis ordered Beck and Johanssen to take me back to my bunk and put me to bed, and, well, three orgasms will make a man docile. Martinez tried to smack my ass as they led me past, Johanssen ably blocked him, and I pronounced her my favoritest, to much merriment. 

I can barely keep my eyes open anymore, but that's pretty much it anyway. I've been at this log so long my hair's dried from my shower. So I might as well hit 'save' and go to sleep after my best birthday party ever, thrown for me by the best crew I could ever have hoped to have, where I got to be the happiest party favor of all time. 

Maybe I can convince everyone we need to do this a few more times before we get home. You know, in the interests of team cohesion and all that.

 _Coda:_ Log Entry, Mission Day 830

Okay, I should've known better. 

I received the traditional birthday present of sleeping late, which I needed even more than usual (you see how long it takes you to rest up from five sex partners and three orgasms, even if you haven't previously spent 18 months at the Mars Spa). While I overslept, the data-dump arrived. I blushed as I watched my parents and Aunt Barb sing "Happy Birthday" to me. It's not like they could possibly know how I celebrated it last night, but. 

By the time I finally got moving it was lunchtime, and since everyone had my tasks to do as well as their own I should've expected to find all five of them chowing down in friendly silence, reading their messages on their tablets, sitting around the perfectly ordinary table. My hearty, "Yay, my crew!" got a couple of mutters and waves and that was it.

The normalcy just... threw me. The last time I saw them all they were naked and climbing carnally onto me. The last time I saw the table I was lying on it like a buffet. I got some chicken with rice and lemon-drink and sat down beside Johanssen, and I meant to eat and drink like a normal hungry astronaut, I did.

But when I opened my mouth "Are we really?" came out instead. "Aren't we even gonna talk about--"

Johanssen smoothly reached over and pressed two fingers across my mouth, other hand scrolling her tablet as she kept reading. As I sat there blinking, a tap on my shoulder made me turn towards Beck right as he shoved a cracker into my open mouth. Without saying a word he went and sat back down across from Johanssen and picked up his tablet and his spoon again.

Martinez smirked, probably not at whatever he was pretending to read. Lewis and Vogel just kept on as they were. I surrendered to the friendly quiet, and swallowed my pride and my cracker. At least the latter was tasty.


End file.
